


Away in the Blooming Meadows

by misha_collins_butt



Series: And the Stars Will Fade and the Moon Will Fall but Please Stay With Me Tonight [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bottom!Sam, Fluff, Imagery, M/M, Profound, Winchester Boys - Freeform, soft!Sam, sorta - Freeform, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 00:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20300608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misha_collins_butt/pseuds/misha_collins_butt
Summary: Just a sweet, profound piece I wrote at two in the morning sometime last year





	Away in the Blooming Meadows

"Where are you right now?" Mumbled, whispered through the still air of the Texas morning.

He watches his finger circle around the older man's chest, unresponsive. Warm breeze at the small of his bare back.

Twirl. Twirl. Trace. A pattern, a dance.

_I love you._

Blunt nails trailing up the curve of his spine gently, getting his attention.

Sam's eyelashes flicker up slowly, whiskey golden sun trickling in like warm maple syrup through the ethereal white shades pulled across the window catches in Dean's green eyes. It looks like a sunrise over a field of sunflowers. 

Twirl. Trace. Twirl. 

_You say that a lot._

His slack lips turn up at the corners. He's breathing the morning out in clouds of dust floating across the square of light. 

"I guess I'll just miss all of this when it's done. When dad comes back and we can't even kiss each other until he's got his back turned."

Dean's fingers tap across his back. Clammy shivers up to the nape of his neck. Dean's other arm is folded behind his head, Sam's bunched up between his own chest and Dean's side.

Trace. Twirl. Twirl.

_Well it's true..._

"Fuck dad. Fuck this messed up thing he calls a family. If he finds out, all we gotta do is leave. It'd be so easy, Sammy." 

A foot rubbing the top of his ankle. Nails across his back, plucking like hands on guitar strings and a tangy voice, sweet and acoustic, waxing over love in the distance.

Nine o' clock and the shadows turn soft, dipping them in calm and silence, drenching them in a gossamer outline, sharp cheekbones rounded and muscles turned supple, pink blush opaque in half-kept promises.

Twirl. Twirl. Trace.

_Then don't leave._

Sam's hair splayed across Dean's warm shoulder, his cheek pressed to his collarbone. White wedding grin at the idea of running away together.

"That would be amazing. No one to tell us we're wrong. Go somewhere where no one knows who we are."

Light chuckle and Sam's hand lifting with Dean's chest. Dean tugs his arm tighter around Sam's waist, pulls him up on top of him.

Heated skin pressed to freckles and muscle. Sam rolls his head to the other cheek, other collarbone, nose buried in Dean's bruise-bitten neck.

Legs tangled in legs, naked bodies breathing each other in.

Dean's lips against Sam's forehead and his arms around tanned back.

Twirl. Twirl. Trace. Twirl.

_Don't leave._

_I won't._


End file.
